


Heartbeats

by Plants



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Hospitalization, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:55:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plants/pseuds/Plants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And for a moment Hinata can see the string there, wrapped around the littlest finger of the hand Komaeda is using to cup his cheek, the colour looking vibrant against the rest of the scenery. His eyes follow the string onto the table, past the tea cup and onto the floor where it suddenly lifts, climbing higher and higher until it connects to the red line on the monitor Hinata had been staring at earlier, now jumping at a radical pace, accompanied by a new, more distressed, sounding beep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartbeats

The room is sitting in silence—or, at least, the majority of it is. There is a steady hum coming from the air conditioning device installed to one of the walls, the temperature turned low enough to give the room a frosty chill. The small boxed television is flanking the other wall, exclaiming idle words in the background, the screen flickering from fuzzy faces to odd coloured scenery that puts together a careless, yet detailed, story.

  
None of that is really of much relevance though; in fact, the sounds are completely drowned out by a pristine and curt beep of a machine that makes itself known through the noise which fills the room every second second. That particular beep is the only thing heard for a simple reason—that’s because it’s the only thing Hinata can truly focus his attention on right now.  
  
His eyes are fixated on the source of noise, studying the thin red line that snakes across the monitor, jumping each time the machine beeps as if hoping someone would realize its importance, dying down only to repeat itself and leap again.  
  
Hinata isn’t sure how long he has been staring at the line, swaying involuntary from left to right in his seat, as if pulled into a trance by a charming hypnotist, unable to pull his eyes away from them, or rather, in reality, the line bouncing against the black screen.  
  
 _“Ah, Hinata-kun, do you know the legend of the red string of fate?”_  
  
 _At the mention of his name Hinata blinks slowly, closing his eyes only to open them again, finding himself elsewhere. He stops rocking in his seat, sluggishly straightening his posture and turn his head from side to side to take in the new scene around him._  
  
 _He is sitting in the same chair as before, his back uncomfortable against its wooden frame, a table now sitting in from of him rather than a bed, its furnishing being a bright cherry sort of color, the setting itself seeming to smell of the fruit. Directly in front of him on the table is a white cup, heat rising from it, creating meaningless pictures made of steam. Hinata lifts an arm—his limbs feeling as heavy as bricks—to reach out for the drink having the hope in mind that taking a sip might sooth him out of his confused state._  
  
 _“I realize I’m not very interesting but the least you can do is pretend to listen, or at least let me know I’m not wanted. I’m used to this kind of treatement but it is a bit of a surprise coming from you, Hinata-kun!”_  
  
 _Hinata stops, his movements ceasing to a halt, pulling his hand back to sit it on his lap, the tea forgotten as he focuses his attention across the table._  
  
 _“Did I do something to upset you, perhaps? If I did please let me know and I’ll never repeat the mistake again.”_  
  
 _“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Komaeda.” Hinata grimaces slightly as he recognizes Komaeda sitting across from him, his hair pulled back in a sloppy pony tail, bare arms crossed over his chest, the signature jacket of his being nowhere to be seen._  
  
 _“Aha!” Komaeda exclaims, pointing a finger to the sky, a somewhat delighted grin ghosting his lips. “I was right then, wasn’t I? You are upset with me! Either way I promise you I’ll keep my word, especially if it means avoiding conflict like this again.”_  
  
 _“There is no conflict–“ Hinata cuts his words short as he watches Komaeda open his mouth to interrupt, Hinata silencing him with the wave of his hand. “Right, whatever. Anyways, what were you saying before?”_  
  
 _The assumption that he has Hinata’s attention causes Komaeda to perk up a little, waving his hands around as if he were recollecting his thoughts that had escaped from his mind into the open air before dropping his hands back down abruptly._  
  
 _“I see I’ve gotten your interest! I was asking if you had heard the legend of the red string of fate—it’s quite common really.”_  
  
 _Before Hinata has a chance to answer or even give his head a small shake Komaeda is blabbering on, clearly uncaring on receiving a proper answer to the question, more intent on telling the story. “Well, in the legend it says that each person has an invisible string tied to their little finger, and, on the other end, the string is supposed to be your other half, ah, your soul mate—that would be a better way of putting it, I suppose.”_  
  
 _The explanation rings a bell in Hinata’s mind, letting the thought loose that he has probably heard something like this, if not the exact same story, before. Whether he has or hasn’t doesn’t matter, the topic all together being rather uninteresting, to be honest. “Nice of you to share, but, is there any real reason you decided to bring that up?”_  
  
 _“Do you know who’s on the other end of your string, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda asks in return, completely ignoring the question Hinata had just asked, tilting his head in a slightly questioning manner._  
  
 _“Knowing who’s on the other end would defeat the purpose of the string being invisible, wouldn’t it?”_  
  
 _Komaeda laughs and Hinata isn’t sure whether he is finding this hidden amusement in his own question on the one Hinata had asked him in response._  
  
 _He remains quiet, even as Komaeda’s raspy bout of laughter dies down. Hinata simply observes as Komaeda leans forwards, resting an elbow on the surface of the table, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, leaning into it looking close to bored. He keeps silent for several moments more before letting out a puff of air, a smile returning to his lips as he speaks his thoughts out loud._  
  
 _“Ah…I can’t help but feel sorry for whoever has found themselves on the other end of my string.”_  
  
And for a moment Hinata can see the string there, wrapped around the littlest finger of the hand Komaeda is using to cup his cheek, the intense colour looking vibrant against the rest of the scenery. His eyes follow the string onto the table, past the tea cup and onto the floor where it suddenly lifts, climbing higher and higher until it connects to the red line on the monitor Hinata had been staring at earlier, now jumping at a radical pace, accompanied by a new, more distressed, sounding beep.  
  
The distraught noise brings Hinata to his feet and suddenly he remembers where he is, only to be pushed out of the way by a sturdy looking woman in a blue gown. She stands near the chair Hinata had been sitting in, crowding around with a handful of other people, their voices being nothing but whispers against the alarming sounds from the machine.  
  
Hinata stands there, at loss, looking over the rushed movements of the strangers with glossy eyes. A few moments later the electronic beep has died down, reverting back to its leisurely timed noises, the people stepping back, casting glances in Hinata’s direction as they file out of the room.  
  
One woman lingers, standing in front of Hinata with a naturally hunched posture, hands clasped in front of her. An uneasy smile hints at her pink-painted lips, hazel eyes hiding behind thick lashes, the words that escape her mouth being soft spoken and sympathetic.  
  
“Maybe it would be best if you cut your visit short today, Hinata-sama.”  
  
Hinata lets the words linger in his mind as he looks past the woman and to the seemingly lifeless body she had just been hunching over with the others, hooked up to various machines and modules through tubes and needles, the only sign of life being shown through the steady rise and fall of the chest.  
  
The pain in his gut makes it feel like someone had just taken a speared and pierced Hinata right through with it, his gaze slowly travelling back to the woman as he takes up a defensive stance, shoulders broad, voice bitter.  
  
“Does it really make a difference whether I’m here or not?” He asks her, his eyebrows furrowing together angrily as he speaks.  
  
She fidgets in place and then sighs, murmuring a quick “I…I suppose it’s fine if you stay a bit longer, please excuse me” before shuffling out the door.  
  
As soon as she is gone Hinata is picking his feet up to cross the white tiled floor and back towards the chair, trying not to focus on the lack of colour as he sits back down. As he does the walls seem to leak with emotion, the sterile white walls painting themselves into a creamy beige colour as Hinata recalls the image of Komaeda curled up on the couch in his living room. He’s wrapped in a thick grey blanket, but Hinata can easily see him shivering underneath it. His eyes trail upwards to meet Komaeda’s only to be greeted by a dull, lifeless looking stare.  
  
 _The two of them simply watch each other, that is until Komaeda sneezes abruptly, bringing a hand up from under the blanket to wipe his red, irritated nose with the back of it._  
  
 _“Sorry,” he apologizes afterwards, his voice scratchy and laced with fatigue._  
  
 _Hinata picks up the tissue box on the other end of the couch, handing it to Komaeda, watching as he accepts it gratefully. “Don’t apologize for being sick,” Hinata tells Komaeda as he blows his nose, taking the tissue box from him to set it to the side._  
  
 _Komaeda doesn’t respond, simply throwing the used Kleenex into the nearby trash bin before huddling back up into his blanket, still shivering. The sight it sadly pathetic and eggs Hinata to stand up in search of some more blankets for Komaeda to warm up with. Of course the movement only earns questions, Komaeda asking where he’s going, what Hinata is doing, is he going to leave?_  
  
 _“I’m going to get you an extra blanket,” Hinata retorts simply, half listening to the verbal protests Komaeda throws in his direction as he navigates out of the living room and down the corridor of Komaeda’s home, finding the small closet where sheets and pillows and the like are kept._  
  
 _He grabs a patterned blanket, holding it in both hands as he traverses back into the living room, moving to the couch to throw it onto Komaeda, letting him situate the blanket himself. As he does so Hinata takes a seat beside Komaeda on the couch, shifting around so Komaeda can lean up against his side, the arm closest to him draping over the back of the couch._  
  
 _“You shouldn’t sit so close, Hinata-kun.” Despite the remark Komaeda continues to shift and squirm around only stopping when his head is resting on the curve of Hinata’s neck and shoulder, tucked up against his side. “I wouldn’t want you catching this cold of mine.”_  
  
 _“It’s too bad you got sick, and on your birthday of all days. This is what you would call bad luck.”_  
  
 _“I wouldn’t say it’s a complete misfortune,” Komaeda replies, much to Hinata’s surprise. “Besides, my birthday isn’t anything to celebrate—it doesn’t mark the day of anything special. And even if getting sick like this is bad luck it easily balances out! It can’t be anything but good luck that you of all people volunteered to come and nurse me back to health.”_  
  
 _The remark earns a slight blush from Hinata, his cheeks spreading with the rosy warmth. “Stop talking, Komaeda,” he says, stubbornly looking in the opposite direction. “You’re only going to make your throat worse by talking nonstop.”_  
  
 _Komaeda only hums into response and Hinata lets out a breath of relief, leaning his head back against the back of the couch, bringing a hand down to rake it through Komaeda’s hair, massaging his scalp lightly, continuing even as Komaeda falls asleep beside him, his breathing heavy with sickness._  
  
If only the current situation was just another common cold. Anything would be better than having Komaeda in an endless sleep where Hinata is left to watch, unable to do a damn thing about it. He balls his hands into fists, muttering curses under his breath at no one in particular; the words decoding into a silent prayer for Komaeda to wake up.  
  
Hinata silences himself only to be greeted once more by the electronic beep, reminding him that Komaeda’s heart is still beating properly—that, despite this situation, he is still alive and there is still hope that he will wake up.  
  
He _will_ wake up.  
  
The mechanical heart rate does nothing to comfort Hinata though, only making him feel sick to his stomach, hitting right at the uproar of emotions in his gut, which he can find no proper release for.  
  
Drawing in a breath Hinata tries to block it out, leaning down to gently rest his head against Komaeda’s chest, listening to the organic beep of his heart, as if listening to the life and hope itself that still courses through Komaeda’s veins. It pulses a fraction of the second before the machine beeps, the slight difference in time bringing some sort of inner peace.  
  
Thump. _Beep_.  
  
Thump. _Beep_.  
  
Thump. _Beep beep beep beep_.  
  
The sound of the monitor beeping almost reminds Hinata of an alarm clock, staring at the monitor only to find it reading 9:00AM in bright red letters, flashing on the screen over and over. He reaches an arm out and finds a snooze button on the top, lifting his head slightly as the noise stops only to find himself back in his room.  
  
 _“Is that my cue to leave?”_  
  
 _Hinata’s eyes dart upwards to find Komaeda looking down at him, the thumping noise of his heart disappearing from his ears as he fully lifts himself off of Komaeda’s bare chest, regarding him with an odd sort of fondness._  
  
 _“I should of left last night. After all there’s no more reason for me to be here…unless you want to start the morning off with a healthy release, I have no qualms of being used as—“_  
  
 _“You’re not being used as anything, Komaeda,” Hinata tells him in a stern voice, loosing his sleepy demeanour, only to find it replaced with sudden frustration._  
  
It was always like that with Komaeda, he remembers, lifting his head from Komaeda’s chest to look back at the heeart monitor. Degrading himself, insisting that he would be happy to be used like some sort of toy, telling Hinata constantly he wasn’t good enough to be anything but that.  
  
He closes his eyes leaning back in the chair, raking a hand through his hair as he returns back to the setting of his room, sunlight pouring through the window, Komaeda fit snugly beside him in the twin-sized bed.  
  
 _“Oh? But I thought—“_  
  
 _“Whatever you’re thinking it’s wrong. Fuck, Komaeda, do you really take me for—do you think I…I would just use you like that?” As he speaks Hinata sits up, the blanket tumbling down to pool around his hips, his upper body exposed to the cool air of the room._  
  
 _Komaeda sits up as well, a distressed look occupying his features as he turns to look at Hinata, hesitating for a moment. “I wasn’t trying to offend you! I’m certainly not questioning your moral compass, Hinata-kun, it’s just surprising to think you could consider trash like myself but anything as an object for pleasure!”_  
  
 _Hinata lets out a frustrated sigh and the laugh that comes from Komaeda sounds uneasy. To be honest, he never expected things to turn out like this. When Komaeda first referred to himself as an object, an inanimate thing, like that Hinata had been horrified but by now it could only be nothing but agitating, listening to Komaeda talk like this on a daily basis, draining the energy slowly out of Hinata._  
  
 _“You’re not tr—you know what, nevermind. There really is no getting through to you, is there? It—it doesn’t matter, I have to get to work anyways.” Hinata tosses the blankets aside, standing up only to be pulled right back down, Komaeda’s hand acting like a vice grip around his wrist._  
  
 _“Wait, Hinata-kun! I didn’t mean it! It was a joke, a misunderstanding, really, I—ah, what do you want me to say?”_  
  
 _Komaeda shuffles over on his hands and knees to side to the side of Hinata, still holding his wrist. Glancing over at him Hinata jerks it backwards, watching Komaeda’s hand fall to his lap._  
  
 _“It’s not about what_ I _want Komaeda! This is about you, what makes you happy. Are you happy like this?”_  
  
 _Komaeda stares at him with an unreadable expression, nodding slowly and thoughtfully. He moves closer, their sides pressed together, Komaeda wrapping his arms around Hinata’s shoulder, his face close enough that every warm breath is felt on Hinata’s cheek._  
  
 _“Of course I’m happy. It would be difficult to be anything but cheerful when you’re around, Hinata-kun. I mean it! I’ve told you that before, I’m sure of it. Perhaps_ you _should be more attentive.”_  
  
 _Hinata rolls his eyes and Komaeda kisses his cheek and then his lips, his arms still locked around Hinata’s neck, his own arms holding Komaeda’s slim waist loosely. They stay lip-locked for several minutes, the room completely quiet save for the sound of ragged inhales through their noses, Hinata tilting his head to let his lips travel down Komaeda’s neck, tracing over the fading hickeys there with chaste kisses._  
  
 _When he relents it’s only to look at Komaeda, studying the imperfect details of his face as he knocks their foreheads lightly together, his voice coming out in a hushed tone. “Maybe I’ll call in sick today,” he says, the suggestion earning a bright smile out of Komaeda as he pulls the two of them back to lie down on the bed._  
  
Hinata cracks an eye open to look at the unconscious figure of Komaeda. He hardly looked comfortable in his sleep, lying on his back, closed eyes pointing up at the speckled ceiling, the blanket covering his body being thin and made of what seems like cheap material to Hinata. He isn’t dense, Hinata is fully aware in his state Komaeda doesn’t need a heap of blankets to keep him warm or his pillow fluffed every so often, but maybe if that happened it would at least give the illusion that Komaeda would wake up in the morning ready for his daily routine just like Hinata, and everyone else, does.  
  
“Hinata-sama.” The voice catches Hinata’s attention before the clicking of heels against the tiled floor does, turning his head to find a woman at the door; far different to the one he had a curt discussion with earlier. She strides in with her head held high, having an almost menacing look to her. Her eyebrows are plucked to a fine line, eyes stuck in a malevolent squint, lips pressed together sternly.  
  
“May I take a seat?” She asks, and Hinata nods, watching as she pulls up a chair to sit beside him, crossing her legs as she sits down, folding her hands on her lap. “As you’re probably already aware the six month mark of Nagito Komaeda’s housing here is drawing near. Now, this is something I don’t want to have to discuss but it can’t be avoided. The policy is that after a certain amount of time, six months, we take patients in his state of the life support—“  
  
“You can’t do that,” Hinata tells her, his voice hardly in a panic, but mostly, chiming with authority, as if with the proper tone he could convince her otherwise.  
  
“And why not?”  
  
“You—You just _can’t_. You can’t pull the plug when he still has a chance to live!”  
  
“I’m afraid there is no other choice—“  
  
“There is another choice. Just let him stay on support, please, just another month, he might wake up…”  
  
“And he might not.” Her voice is firm this time, eyes bearing a hole straight into Hinata as if she could see everything about him on the inside and out. “Six months is the greatest amount of time we can pay for the—“  
  
“I’ll pay for it,” Hinata insists, the desperate, twisting feeling in his chest rising to the surface. “I’ll pay if I have to. Name the prince an-and I’ll pay it, I just need another month.”  
  
She shakes her head grimly, a close to inaudible sigh escaping her slim slips. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. Regardless of the circumstances we’re going to have to stop the life support when the mark for six months hits. You should have been well aware of that before now.”  
  
Of course he had been. It would be a miracle to go a week without the constant reminder that if Komaeda didn’t wake up the plug would be pulled and there would be no chance left for him. If he didn’t open his eyes soon, in less than a week by now, then he wouldn’t be opening them ever again. He would go straight from his hospital bed to his resting place below the earth, gone and out of Hinata’s life for good.  
  
Tears prick his eyes, Hinata blinking rapidly in hopes of sending them away, bringing a hand up to dig the heel of it into one of his eyes. As he does so the woman leans forwards, resting a hand on his knee as if to attempt to comfort him.  
  
“We just want you to be prepared for whatever happens.”  
  
With that out in the open she stands and walks out the door, her heels clicking once more, disappearing down the corridor, leaving Hinata to fend for himself. Had six months really gone by already? It seemed like a lot less than that.  
  
Hinata remembers the day like the incident that led Komaeda to this place had only happened hours ago, the sound of sirens still ringing in his ears. It had been the two weeks after the shutdown Enoshima Junko’s office, a well-known therapist who had been accused of using hypnotism, torture methods and mind games to experiment on her patients, causing them to draw deeper into their problems and sicknesses rather than helping them redeem themselves. Until the truth was to be uncovered behind her Enoshima had her business shut down.  
  
Komaeda had been of the handful of patients seeing her, and even after the news he tried to continue to meet with the woman. On his way to Komaeda’s Hinata had found him staggering out the door and towards the car. He easily admitted where he was headed and when Hinata tried to stop him he had been pushed away, left watching Komaeda drive recklessly down the road.  
  
He isn’t sure if following Komaeda had been a mistake or not. By the time Hinata collected himself and got in the car it had been two late. Only several kilometers away from the house there had been an accident, a car crash. Sirens blared and the scene had been closed off with tape, the figure of two broken and disheveled cars visible, but not the people inside them. Hinata had stood there with the rest of the crowd, being sent away by stern talking policemen, people dispersing until he was the only one left.

 _"You’ll have to leave." Is what the man told him firmly, looking at Hinata with judging eyes._  
  
 _"I can’t just leave! He’s there, God he’s still in there, Komaeda, he–"_  
  
 _"We have a team working on getting the victims out of their cars. Your friend will be fine." The man paused for a moment, then continued. "You can follow behind the ambulance if you want."_  
  
From the beginning they insisted there was only a slim chance Komaeda would wake up. Something Hinata refused to believe as the months went by, sitting beside the hospital bed day by day, keeping the former frame of Komaeda company, just like right now.  
  
Hinata turns to look at him, sucking in a breath as he wipes at his eyes desperately for a second time, Komaeda becoming blurry through the wetness of them, his voice coming out in hiccupping sobs.  
  
“F, Fuck, please wake up already. Goddammit…Wake up, Nagito, this is…it’s just another case of bad luck, so please.”  
  
They couldn’t just pull the plug, not when there is still hope for Komaeda to wake up. He’s breathing and living and has the chance to keep going, just like everyone else. There isn’t a time limit, doctors, nurses, whoever they are they can’t simply put a stop to a persons life after a few months.  
  
They couldn’t just stop his heartbeat. 


End file.
